


Strawberry Wishes

by redroseinsanity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Relationship, M/M, Relationship Study, This is a love letter but I'm not sure to who, Thoughtful Fluff, To everyone I guess!, hey waddya know I'm capable of writing a non-kuroken fic, kurotsuki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redroseinsanity/pseuds/redroseinsanity
Summary: You see, Tsukkishima Kei is cool words and haughty glares, he's composure and ice, but what he truly is, is a coward.If Kei could get over whatever this is so that he can open his mouth and say the words, maybe he'll be someone deserving of Tetsurou's love.Or so he thinks, anyway.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 14
Kudos: 86





	Strawberry Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewhiskingpot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhiskingpot/gifts).



> You're the only one I would dare venture into kurotsuki for. Thank you for being you.

Tsukishima Kei knows that he isn’t the easiest person to love. He isn’t the warm cuddly type that people embrace with ease, nor does he possess the kind of softness that draws others in with the need to hold and protect. 

He’s all hard edges and flinty stares, sharp judgements and a razor-edged tongue that does ample damage. 

It's a nicely built wall that keeps people out, at arm's length and too far away to hurt him. Unfortunately with such a solid barrier in place, he neglected to fashion a gate of any sort and now, when it comes to letting people in or feelings out, he's stuck in front of a slate grey stone wall of his own making, not knowing where or how to begin. 

You see, Tsukkishima Kei is cool words and haughty glares, he's composure and ice, but what he truly is, is a coward. 

Outside the skyscrapers blur into monochrome smudges before blending into a series of greens and blues as his train takes him away from the city centre, closer to home. 

Kei stares unseeingly out of the window as he examines exhibit A of his cowardice, compulsively replaying the conversation he had on the phone just before boarding. 

_"Anything in particular you want for dinner?"_

_"No."_

_"You're at the mercy of my culinary skills then!" Tetsurou singsongs and Kei rolls his eyes even as the corners of his lips quirk up._

_"See you soon," he keeps his tone emotionless._

_"See you in a bit. I love you!" Tetsurou's voice curls into something more serious, more fond towards the end and Kei's heart constricts._

_I love you. They're simple enough words but Kei is not in the habit of expressing affection, verbally or physically, and the words get lodged in his chest._

_"Mm," he manages, the guilt edging in on his cool delivery, "I have to go, my train is here. See you at home."_

_"See you at home," There's a warmth in Tetsurou's voice that Kei wants to lean into, and he knows all he has to do is to fall and he'll be caught, that it'll be a soft landing, a safe landing._

He wonders if Tetsurou thinks that he doesn't feel the same because he hardly verbalizes it. Insidiously, the thought wraps around him and he's seized with the fear that Tetsurou thinks he doesn't love him, doesn't care for him. 

And he wishes that he could say it. That the words would yank free from the base of his diaphragm and escape into the cool air, solid and reassuring, the way Tetsurou's words feel. 

_I love you._

. . . 

It's not as though Kei has never said it, of course he has. But he's bad at it, uncomfortable with it. The words come out stilted and insincere, like reading a script rather than trying to express the tidal wave of emotion that drowns him at every waking moment. 

He feels suffocated with it, by the raging fire within him that burns so bright that were he were brave enough to look at it, he knows it would blind him. 

There's so much. It's all so much. Sometimes he thinks, _No one can feel this way._ Because who can possibly accommodate this much emotion and not explode? 

And then, _No one can possibly feel the way I do for you_. Because it's true, because surely, no one can know Tetsurou the way he does, can love him with the same blazing intensity the way he does, until it aches because there's so much love that Kei wants to give and does not know how to. He doesn't want there to be anyone else who can, he wants it to be him. 

It honestly lights a fire under his ass, because Kei is nothing less than a competitive, determined bitch. 

Yes, he hates being emotionally vulnerable, he hates saying the words because it feels cheap coming out of his mouth and they always seem to fall flat.

He hates putting it out there for anyone else to snatch up and mock him with although he knows that Tetsurou would never, ever wait for him to say it and then go, "Sike, I was playing you all along, joke's on you."

Nevertheless, part of him always clamps down around those words because the possibility hangs over him like a piano waiting to fall. No one survives a piano landing on their feelings. Or maybe they do. But that's one heck of an emotional recovery journey. 

So yes, Kei is awkward and self conscious and _afraid_. 

But Kei would be damned if he let that get in his way because he wants to try. For Tetsurou, he will try and he will fight himself so that he can reach into the bonfire of his soul and pull out clumsy, flaming handfuls to give to his lover. 

So he pushes. 

To type it more when they text or to scribble it at the end of a reminder that he leaves as a post-it on Tetsurou's desk. 

The first time Tetsurou catches sight of Kei's home screen, he lights up.

"Is that... That's me!" He looks in Kei's face, delighted and his smile half catching into something teasing, "Keiiii!"

Instinct would have Kei saying something snarky or cool in an off-handed tone, playing it off like he's not at all embarrassed or shy. Then he catches himself and pauses, grips the tenderness that had been attempting to flee and shoves it to the surface.

"Of course it's you," His voice is soft but Tetsurou hears and the teasing expression shifts into a responding gentleness, "Who else would it be?"

He takes a deep breath and holds those golden eyes, he's skittish like a wild animal that's about to break and run for it but he reins in the urge to and keeps his face open, lets Tetsurou read it like no one else has been allowed to. 

There's a light in Tetsurou's gaze that burns like the sun and it's brilliant now, more brilliant than before. _Oh,_ Kei thinks, _That's for me._ And he wants to believe that if he holds still enough, if he bares himself to this, it will reflect it like the moon does the sun's glory, and Tetsurou would see it too.

Somehow, it never really seems enough. 

. . . 

Sometimes, Kei feels like he's just going through the motions, the days pass in a blur of routines set to the rhythmic ticking of a clock that his heart beats to. It's as though he's on autopilot and he's not really there in his brain, just watching distantly as his body moves like a little mechanical soldier, a wound up tin toy. 

It's a strange sensation, like being in a run-on sentence that monologues on until he doesn't remember where he started or where it will end. Life shrinks to a dull repeat of the day before the day before the day before. 

And yet, Tetsurou is punctuation in this, in a text message that pulls him back to the present amidst the monotony of a dreary afternoon.

He's the burst of colour at the end of a drab day, and when Kei sees him he remembers that the lungs filling with air are his, with every inhale, he's called back to himself, anchored in Tetsurou's shining, goofy smile and his warm voice. 

He's the funny anecdote that makes Kei crack the first smile of the day over a lunchtime call and the weekend hike that he identifies as a tentpole in the repetitive weeks. 

Every time Kei feels life start to slip and smear into messy, overlapping paints, Tetsurou is the bright spot, the focal point that calls him back to reality, to him. 

It's simple, Tetsurou doesn't need to do much, it's just being with him, walking with him, talking with him, just him. 

When Kei gets out of work, seeing Tetsurou waiting for him is like getting pitched back into the universe, from the cold, empty blackness of space barreling through the muggy atmosphere straight into the alarming closeness of the ground. 

All of a sudden, he's real again, and encircled in reassuring arms, his nose is tweaked in a way that makes him frown on reflex and his forehead kissed in a way that makes his ears blush. 

_I love you._ The thought, the emotion slams into him with no warning and it leaves him winded. _I love you so much._ It curls around him, weaving a blanket of comfort, of disbelieving joy, to be loved this much, to love this much. 

He tucks his face into the side of Tetsurou's neck, turns to press a kiss to the soft skin there. It could be sensual, given the placement, but it's nothing but Kei trying to imprint the weight of his adoration in a single move. 

_I love you I love you I love you._

. . . 

It's a particularly shitty day full of particularly shitty situations and all Kei wants to do is to lie down in a cool dark room and pretend that he's at the bottom of the ocean. 

Either that or figure out a way to launch himself off this planet so that he never has to deal with another narrow-minded bigot ever again in his life. Or humans in general. 

Somehow he makes it home, and as his key grates into the rusty lock that they've never gotten round to changing, he finds that he's able to unclench his jaw and take a slightly deeper breath. It comes out as a sigh, an exhalation of relief, a softball player sliding into the home base and that instant jolt of knowing that they're safe, that they can rest now. 

He trudges in, murmuring a barely audible 'Tadaima' before getting into his comfiest pyjamas. They're a soft cotton set that Tetsurou got him two Christmases ago, patterned with different dinosaurs in psychedelic colours on a navy background. It's objectively hideous and Kei adores it. 

Tetsurou comes out from the bathroom to long limbs draped over the couch and the only indication that his partner is alive being the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

Gently, he scoops Kei's shoulders and head off the couch, scoots in and then settles, laying Kei's head on his lap. Kei doesn't open his eyes even at Tetsurou's initial touch, just lets himself be handled like a doll, malleable and floppy. 

It makes Tetsurou chuckle and the low, amused sound, the knowledge that he did that, _he_ made Tetsurou laugh, uncurls the remaining fist around his heart and the last of the tension around Kei's eyes disappears. 

"Long day?" Tetsurou asks, the heat of the hot water shower he just emerged from pours off his skin in waves of bergamot. 

This is Kei's therapy. 

Other people go for massages and surrender their headaches to kneading hands and aromatic oils, others go shopping and displace their stress with shiny new things, others find professionals who offer truths that need to be said and absolve crimes you never committed. 

But Kei comes home. To the scent of bergamot and the warmth of his lover's skin, to the long fingers carding through his hair and the comfort of a familiar voice, to the knowledge that he can close his eyes and not be blindsided. 

Kei responds with what's meant to be a grunt but ends up as a breathy sigh that's mainly due to him nearly having drifted off in this position. 

"People are so annoying," He mumbles, and he feels his glasses get taken off, replaced by the gentle pressure of Tetsurou's fingers smoothening the creases out of his brow, pressing the tension headache away. 

"I'm the only person who's not annoying, right?" Tetsurou teases and Kei sighs, a wry smile crossing his lips. 

"You're the most annoying person I've ever met," He declares before cracking open his eyes and squinting against the ceiling lights to focus on the blurry details of Tetsurou's face, "But you're also somehow the person I hate the least."

It's hardly complimentary, but Tetsurou's face splits into a grin that's equal parts incandescent and triumphant, before he drops a kiss on Kei's forehead. 

They watch the shark documentary they've been saving and have junk food ordered in, and in the blue tinged light from the television, Tetsurou is smug and wound around Kei, like a well-fed cat that is content and ready to sleep. 

And Kei thinks, _Maybe, just maybe, I can make him happy too._

. . . 

They fight. All couples do, but Kei isn’t good at relationships to begin with, not to mention managing conflict in one. 

So they fight. It’s something big or it’s something trivial or it’s the accumulation of tiny things that happen to boil over that day. All Kei knows is Tetsurou looks tired, upset and easily, smoothly, all rational thought flies out the window. 

“You know I don’t like it when you don’t tell me these things.” All Kei hears is _You’re so difficult to love._

“It makes me feel like I’m not important to you, I- It makes me feel like I’m constantly chasing you for time together,” Tetsurou continues, fists clenching and unclenching as the words filter into Kei’s brain, _I’m sick of this, I’m tired of you, you’re exhausting me._

_You’re important to me, I only want to spend time with you, who else would I spend it with?_ Is what hurls itself against the tight line of Kei’s mouth. He wills himself to pry his jaws open, to let the words surface into the tense air between them.

“Maybe you should be with someone who doesn’t make you feel like you’re constantly chasing them then,” Is what he says instead and the instant he does, he wants to snatch them back and throw them out the window, he wants to take them back because they’re bitter and cold and _nothing_ at all like what he wants to say. 

If Tetsurou's exhale cuts like a knife, then the angry, hurt expression that paints his face is a salt-covered wound.

“That’s not- You know that’s not what I’m saying,” Frustration creeps into Tetsurou's tone and it makes Kei panic, it makes him want to turn and run so that he can leave before it hurts more, before Tetsurou can leave him. 

_I’m not supposed to make you feel like this_ , he thinks frantically, his expression unchanging even as he begins to sweat, his skin prickling with anxiety.

He holds his defiant gaze even as his mind blanks out, shuffling into fight or flight mode except he wants to win the fight and then run before he can see the carnage he’s wrecked. 

_I’m not good at this, I’m not good enough for him._

“If I’m just going to make you upset, maybe I’m just a shitty partner,” He deals out coolly, hating himself more with every word. _Tell me I’m wrong, tell me it’s okay, tell me I’m not as bad as I think. Don’t leave me._

He startles when Tetsurou stands and tries not to flinch at the look in his lover’s eyes. 

“I need to go for a walk,” Tetsurou says, and the sheer hysteria that rises up nearly engulfs Kei _Oh god, I did it, I made this happen, I broke us_ , “I’m coming back, I just need some fresh air. I’m coming back and we’re going to talk this through.” 

It’s delivered with a touch of anger, but it’s steady, sure and Kei clings to it, nods numbly. 

He doesn’t know how long Tetsurou's gone for. It feels like hours, it feels like seconds, Kei just fidgets with the tassel on the cushion and scrabbles weakly in his mind for a course of action. He tries to be logical, _It’s okay, the worst that could happen is we break up. I’ve lived without him before, I can do it again._

But it’s overridden by wave after wave of cold fear, panic that grips him and leaves him frozen. _I can’t do this- I hate- Why can’t I-? Am I broken? I can’t fix this, I can’t make this better. He hates me, I’ve done it, I’ve made him hate me._

He’s blinking away hot tears when the key sounds in the lock and then he’s taking a deep breath, trying to wrestle back his fraying composure. 

Tetsurou drops into the spot on the couch next to him and he’s close enough to touch, but the scant inches between them feel much like a gulf that cannot be crossed.

“I love you,” Tetsurou starts and it beams a little ray of hope in the uncertainty Kei struggles with, “I just want to spend time with you. I don’t know if you feel the same because you never say anything and I can’t tell if you’re just not into it as I am.”

_Tell him,_ Kei hisses to himself, _Say it, I love you, say it!_

“I do,” He mumbles pathetically, “Always.” And to his horror the word comes out thick with tears and there’s a wet splat as a drop falls down onto his glasses, obscuring his view of his lap. 

“No, no, no,” Tetsurou slides off the sofa to land in front of Kei, looking up at him as he pushes his glasses up to wipe the tears away with a gentle hand, “Hey, I’m supposed to be crying.”

They both manage a weak smile at that and in that instant, the tension cracks and Kei breathes a little easier. 

“I ditched the mini team dinner,” Kei mumbles. 

“Wait, no-” Tetsurou starts, looks distressed, a tinge guilty and Kei is shaking his head, catching Tetsurou's sleeve between his fingers, afraid to reach for more. 

“No, we already had the team dinner, this is just for them to gossip and I’m not interested in the banal ramblings of people I see every day,” Kei says firmly to the soft black material caught between his fingertips, “I was gonna stay home with you. If you were free.”

“I don’t want you to give up social life for me,” Tetsurou stresses, pulling his sleeve out of Kei’s grap and clasping his hand instead, “I just wanted to know if you want to spend time with me the way I want to spend time with you.”

Kei nods, feeling relief crumble away at any sort of composure he was hanging on to. 

_I do. I love you._

“I’m sorry I suck at communication,” He comes out with and nearly bites his tongue with all the words he doesn’t know how to shape, “I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou is already pulling him into a hug, the tension seeping from his frame as he buries his face in Kei’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean to throw a fit, it’s been a bad week and this kind of just, threw me off.”

Kei doesn’t know why Tetsurou's apologising since obviously, Kei is the defective one here, but the second apology gets stuck in his throat so he just wraps his arms around Tetsurou and tries to convey it in the fold of his body.

. . . 

Contrary to what people believe, Kei feels a lot. They are all fooled by his blank expressions and minute frowns but Kei's emotions crash against his being like tsunamis and that's exactly why he needs to seem collected. It's the safest, how else will he deal with it when all the unwieldy, unpredictable, overflowing emotion spills out into the world?

Only in the secure cocoon of darkness, nestled in Tetsurou's arms and assured by the even breaths that fan gently on the nape of his neck, does Kei reach down into the depths of his lungs for the steady words that escape him normally. 

“I’m sorry,” he exhales into the inky space of their bedroom, one hand reaching to interlace his fingers with the hand that’s draped over his waist, a comforting weight on most nights, “I don’t tell you I love you very often and I’m sorry you don’t get to hear it as much as you should.” 

He stills when a pair of warm lips press themselves to the base of his neck and the arm around him tightens, pulling him so that his back is flush against Tetsurou's chest. 

“Why are you apologising?” Tetsurou's voice is still hoarse from sleep and Kei loves it, he loves every single detail of this man. In the dark, he can be brave and so he strives to sound as unwavering as he did mere moments ago. 

“I know I don’t say I love you as often as you do,” Here, he falters as the emotions he has so tightly reined in threaten to spill out, “I don’t- If you want me t- I don’t want you to feel as though I don’t.”

“Kei,” Tetsurou's voice is all seriousness as he tugs on Kei to turn over to face him, his golden eyes bright in the cool dimness, “You do.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not as… Socially comfortable to say it and so even though I may wish to, it doesn’t always come out,” He frowns though he knows that Tetsurou probably can’t see it. 

“Did you just call me emotionally easy?” Tetsurou's voice is teasing and Kei huffs an exasperated sigh which in turn, elicits a quiet laugh.

When the arms around him _heave_ , Kei only has time to let out a muffled squeak as he is reeled into an embrace, with Tetsurou twisting so that Kei lands half on top of him, his head tucked in the crook of Tetsurou's shoulder, nose grazing the smooth skin of his neck. 

“What’s all this nonsense about not saying I love you, huh?” Kei can feel the reverberations of Tetsurou's voice in his chest and he wants to burrow further into his hold, let the vibrations soothe him to sleep. 

“You say it when you give me the first bite of your strawberry cake even though I know it’s your favourite, and when you made sure the first dish you mastered was salt grilled mackerel pike because you knew it was _my_ favourite,” Tetsurou continues.

“You say it when you still hold my hand in public even when I wear that shirt you think is a monstrosity from hell, you say it when you watch movies that I like with me even though they’re not your thing, you say it when you look at me in a crowded room and I can read your mind because I know I’m the only one you give those looks to, you say it when I make you bentos and you always wash the box and leave a cute dinosaur pin inside for me to find, and when you order for me at restaurants on bad days when I don't feel like talking to people."

“I hear it, I hear you say it every day, _I know you_ and I know when you’re telling me you love me,” Tetsurou murmurs into Kei’s ear and Kei is desperately blinking back a tear as he buries his face in his partner’s shoulder. 

“I know, Kei,” Tetsurou hums, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I started writing a piece about guilt and it turns out it was about love languages. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought or come hmu on [tumblr](https://redroseinsanity.tumblr.com/) !  
> 


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